Angel With The Scabbed Wings
by PurgatoryHeart
Summary: Sequel to Sympathy For The Devil; Years have passed and Sparda and Eva are living happily with their two boys, but something goes horribly wrong. Eva 'dies' and Sparda is left to pick up the pieces, but things aren't what they seem.AU,kindaOOC,NOTYOAI!
1. The Beginning of Something New

**Angel With The Scabbed Wings**

**Ch.1 The Beginning of Something New**

"_The Greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world he didn't exist."_

It was 3:00pm and the sun was close to setting. A strong breeze swept through the valley ruffling the two boys' hair. Dante and Vergil played in a field catching dragonflies outside their house. The smell of summer and wilting flowers sweeping through Glasgow, Scotland. Sparda was away out of town on a business trip, while Eva sat on the porch reading a novel and watching the boys.

She hadn't been reading for more than twenty minutes before a twinge at the base of her skull put her on high alert. Her whole body stiffened and she slowly put the book she was reading down. Standing up, she made her way over to her son's catching their attention. "Boys…why don't we go inside? It's kind of hot out here, huh? Want something to drink?"

Dante and Vergil looked up, nodding their heads. It was hot outside, the sun beating down on their backs making them sweat. Dante's and Vergil's ivory white skin held a rosy tint as they made their way to the house in the summer heat.

Eva held Dante's hand in her right and Vergil's in her left. They walked in slow measured steps as she tried to assess the danger of the situation. She could feel powerful demons nearby, but she didn't know how many there where. As they got to the back porch, Eva slid the door open and ushered her children inside. Once inside, Eva took their hands again, and led them to a door set at the base of the stairs.

"Boys, do you remember what we talked about? You, your father, and I? About when dangerous monster's come to the house?" Eva asked, taking their hands in hers.

Dante's face creased with confusion, but Vergil just nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to hide inside the big metal door with all the symbols on it, and do exactly what we talked about. Will you do that for me? Will you wait for daddy?" Eva asked, holding their gaze.

Both Dante and Vergil nodded. Eva nodded, and pushed on a panel which opened up a doorway with a set of stairs leading down. She pushed the boys in then followed after them as they walked down the rickety staircase. At the bottom of the staircase was a small wine cellar. At the far wall, was a large vault door with demonic sigils burned into the metal. With effort, Eva opened the heavy door and pushed Dante and Vergil in. Inside the vault, there was food, juice boxes, water, sleeping bags, books, and a phone with only one number inside.

Eva was about to close the vault door when Dante stopped her. "Aren't you supposed to come inside with us, mommy?"

Eva gave him a reassuring smile. "Not this time, baby. I have to go see how many of them are out there. I promise I'll come back." Eva replied, continuing to close the door.

Once she got it closed, she put a seal on the door and it disappeared from view. She headed back up the stairs, and the hidden door slid back into place effectively closing off the entrance hiding it from view.

Eva silently crept through the house, and stopped in front of a painting. Removing the painting from the wall, she revealed a safe and slowly turned the dial until it opened. Inside were her twin pistols and extra magazines of ammo. There were little safes like this one all over the house. Sparda and Eva had both agreed that it would probably be best to hide their weapons when they weren't in use. Especially, after a certain incident when Dante and Vergil decided it would be fun to play with Mommy and Daddy's weapons. After that, Eva and Sparda only ever brought out their weapons when they were teaching them how to defend themselves.

Pocketing the extra ammunition, Eva picked up her guns and started moving about the house. She went through corridor after corridor and room after room, but didn't find a trace of any demons. Perhaps she overreacted. She was so used to Sparda's presence that she had probably just felt a flock of birds fly by. It wouldn't have been the first time. Her hypersensitive nerves could pick up any sign of life within a mile radius. Sparda had said that it was impressive for a human. That must've been it. She probably had just felt some animal moving around outside. However, it didn't explain the amount of power she felt.

Eva turned around to go back to the boys, when she came face to chest with a demon the width of the doorway. She gasped, backpedaling fast. Raising her pistols to aim at the demons chest, Eva was about to fire when the demon raised its clawed hand and slashed at Eva's hands. She screamed in pain, dropping her guns. Holding her wrists, Eva backed away but was soon surrounded by two more demons. Eva fearfully looked at the grandfather clock at the far wall. It was 3:39pm. Sparda wouldn't miss her until he called at 8:00pm. Eva let out a sob as she looked back at her attackers. They wanted to kill her, and her boys. Else they wouldn't have bothered coming here. But they wouldn't get them. They would have to be satisfied with her death instead.

--:--

Inside the vault, it was cool. Air condition was being filtered in via an air vent by the wall. Even the vent itself had sigils burned into it so nothing, but clean air came through it. For five minutes, Dante and Vergil sat in silence next to each other. Breaking the silence, Dante spoke up. "Vergil, shouldn't mommy have gotten back by now?" Dante asked, staring at the door.

Vergil shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, I think mommy should have gotten back now. I wanna go look for her." Dante continued.

"No, Dante. We can't."

"But why not?!" Dante shouted, looking at Vergil.

"Because we're not supposed to and even if we wanted to we can't leave because this door only opens from the outside." Vergil explained flatly, staring at the door.

Dante frowned, looking down at his hands. "I'm scared, Vergil."

Vergil looked at his little brother sadly. "I know. Me too."

After a few a more minutes, a bloodcurdling scream from above shattered the blissful silence the two brother's shared. Dante looked up sharply toward the ceiling. "Mommy!" Dante shouted, jumping to his feet. He ran to the door and began to bang on it with as much force as his little half-breed body allowed.

Vergil ran to his side, and pulled Dante away from the door. He pushed him on the floor, and tried to restrain him by holding his arms down and using his body to pin Dante to the floor. Dante continued to thrash around however, screaming for Vergil to get off of him.

"Shh! They'll hear you." Vergil whispered his voice small and far away.

For a moment, Dante stopped his flailing as soon as he heard his brothers' voice. He looked into his face and saw tears forming. Dante stopped altogether at the site of his brothers' tears. They were proof that their mother was dead. Vergil never cried, unless it was a sure thing. He never cried unless he had a good reason, too. And right now, it was as good a reason as they were going to get. Dante's small body began to shake with sobs. Vergil let him go, and sat with his back against the wall facing the door. Dante wrapped his arms around his brother, wishing that this day had never happened.

--:--

Three hours passed. Dante and Vergil had to sit through their mothers screaming for an hour before the monsters upstairs moved on. They tore through the house—Vergil thought they must've been looking for them—and they found the hidden door at the base of the stairs. Both Dante and Vergil could hear the crashing of the wine bottles as they hit the floor. Vergil held his breath as he covered Dante's mouth to keep him quite. He hoped that the monsters wouldn't find them, but after a while the monsters must have given up. The brother's couldn't hear the crashing of glass hitting the concrete floor anymore, and the sounds of their footsteps faded away.

After what felt like forever, Vergil finally picked up the phone that sat on its charger. He was fairly certain that the monsters were gone, and he was getting tired. Dante slept beside him, his head on his thigh, and his body curled into a ball. His mouth hung open, and he shivered slightly. Vergil wrapped him in a blanket, and looked at the wireless phone again. He went to the only contact that was inside the phone and dialed.

After three rings, an answer machine picked up. It was a standard message relaying a number at the end. Vergil didn't leave a message as he was told not to. He was also told not to call more than once. As it was dangerous to even call that one time. He set the phone down, and waited.

--:--

This time of year, Spain was swelteringly hot. The oppressive weather only made worse by the five hour conference Sparda was currently stuck in. At the moment, he was a big name in the corporate world only for the fact that it was hard to get an audience with him and even harder to get a contract signed with him.

After his fiasco in New York years ago, Sparda had to change his name from Julian Luna to Oscar Modesto. He moved to Glasgow, Scotland and started a new life with Eva that she was all too happy for. After a couple of years or so, they'd gotten married and had kids. At the moment, Sparda could safely say he was happy with his new life. However, he'd be even happier if he could skip out on the meeting. He couldn't complain much though. The meeting was basically over.

He was getting tired of humans kissing his ass just so they could make money. Normally, he wouldn't have minded but a distinct vibration in his pants kept bugging him. He'd kept his cell phone on vibrate throughout the meeting, and he was sure that Eva knew he was on business. It wasn't even 8 'o clock yet, his usual check in time. As soon as the meeting was over, Sparda stepped outside and checked his phone. He had one missed call. His stomach felt like it took a dive off a spring board on top of a mountain. No one called him from this number. He hoped it was just Eva overreacting.

Walking farther away from the office he stood by Sparda redialed the number. The phone was ringing. Once…twice…three times and then finally someone picked up.

"Daddy!" It was Vergil. He began wailing on the line, he was so happy that his father called back.

Sparda struggled to keep his voice calm, and not panic in public. "Vergil…what happened? Is everything alright?"

"Daddy! The monster's came an' me and Dante went downstairs to the hidden door like you an' Mommy told us too!" Vergil cried his voice almost incoherent.

"Vergil, where's your mother now?" Sparda asked as calmly as he possibly could. Vergil didn't answer, but his sobbing grew more distinct with each passing minute. Sparda fought to keep the rising tide of panic that welled up inside of him. "It's alright. I'm coming. Daddy's coming, alright. I'll be there right now. Just don't make a sound until I get there, got it? Don't make a sound until I open that door." Sparda whispered his heart hammering. Without even thinking, he already started moving to a deserted part of the building.

Vergil nodded, then realized his father couldn't see the action and said, "Yes."

Sparda hung up as he looked around to make sure no cameras or any personal saw him. He opened a portal and stepped through it.

--:--

Not long after, Sparda arrived home. Stepping out of the portal he created, he walked to the front door. It was still locked. Without bothering with his key, he gave the doorknob a sharp twist and broke the lock. The inside looked completely fine. Nothing seemed out of place, but that didn't mean that it wasn't. Sparda could smell the strong scent of blood in the air. He followed the scent until it led him to his study.

The door was ajar with the scent of blood wafting through. Pushing it open farther, Sparda knew that without a doubt, Eva was dead. The study was soaked with Eva's blood and the remains of her body. Her arm along with her wedding band was on his desk, with a message written in her blood.

_If at first you don't succeed, try, try again._

Rage, hate, and grief welled up inside Sparda. He had never really allowed himself to think about what would happen if he were to ever let himself get close to someone...if he were to ever get close to Eva. And now he knew. She paid for his brief happiness with her life, and almost their children.

At the thought of Dante and Vergil, Sparda turned. He grabbed the door handle, pulling the door closed as he walked away from the mess. Going to the stair case, Sparda could see the hidden door was ripped open. His heart started beating faster. _Please let them be okay… _Sparda thought dreadfully.

He took tentative steps down the stairs until he came to the base. As he turned the corner, Sparda could feel his heart literally leap for joy. Though, all his wine was destroyed the vault door remained hidden from site which meant that the boys had to be safe. Sparda walked to the bare wall and laid a bare hand across the cement. He said a few words and the wall became a metal door.

Turning the vault handle, Sparda opened the door. Swinging the door open, Sparda peered inside. Vergil's head snapped up as the door opened and Dante, who was previously asleep and curled up next to his brother, snapped to attention.

"Daddy!" Vergil and Dante shouted in unison. They practically launched themselves at Sparda, clinging to his waist in a near death grip. Sparda knelt down on his knees to embrace his sons. His heart ached to see that they were okay. "Daddy… Mommy's—'' Dante sobbed, but was cut short by Sparda.

"I know…" Sparda replied his voice tight. "We need to leave." Even though the one's that had torn his life to shreds were long gone, Sparda suspected that they would be back. He also knew that they weren't safe there anymore. Holding his sons close, Sparda opened another portal and passed right through it. He figured that this day would come, but even knowing that it would happen couldn't prepare him for the grief that welled up in him.

The portal closed behind them, closing on a chapter of their life only to start anew some place different.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Yaay! It's finally up!

I told you guys that I would have it up soon. At any rate, the reason this story is going in a different direction from the original storyline is because if not, then I wouldn't have a story to begin with.

The title Angel With The Scabbed Wings is in reference to the Marylin Manson Song. One day I heard it and I couldn't stop listening to it. It also worked out great because their will be Angel's in this story...and before you go off and stop reading because of religious purposes, please give my story a chance. I realized when this story started developing in my head that it might offend some people of different religions, and mainly because most of my reference is from Christianity(I'm not a Christian) but I have to say that this story is going to take on a life of it's own. Also, without giving away to much information about the plot the Angels aren't necessarily good guys...or are they? Hmmm.

You'll have to keep reading to find out!

My inspiration came from the TV show Supernatural and Top Cows comics The Darkness and The Witchblade. If you don't know either, than I strongly suggest checking out the comic books, and the show.

Like always, R&R plz!!!


	2. Carry On My Wayward Sons

**Angel With The Scabbed Wings**

**Ch.2 Carry On My Wayward Son(s)**

_**3 years later**_

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more_

Dante and Vergil smiled as they played rock, paper, scissor in back of their father's car while 'Carry on my wayward son' by Kansas played on the radio. At the moment, they were traveling to Rochester, Iowa to meet a "friend."

Truth be told, this friend was a hunter. Sparda would leave the boys behind if he could for reasons other than just safety, but he had no one to look after them. Or more accurately, he didn't trust anyone with his sons lives and wouldn't let them near without his supervision. You couldn't blame him for being so paranoid. He was an only parent, and it had only been three years now.

For the most part after Eva died, the three of them moved around going from hotel to hotel. Those first couple of months they stayed at Vie Du Marli with Maitre. She was just delighted to have The Legendary Dark Knight and his sons stay with her for as long as they did. It wasn't only a couple of months, but it did seem to help. Especially, where the boys were concerned. He loved them with all his heart, however at times they could just be downright annoying, like now.

Sparda sighed, shaking his head as Dante began yelling at Vergil who apparently cheated at rock, paper, scissor. How do you cheat at a game like that?! It was just impossible, unless you could read the other's mind. "Dante, stop yelling. It's just a game." Sparda said, sharply.

"But Vergil cheated! He always cheats!" Dante bellowed back. Vergil just rolled his eyes.

"How old are you, again? I don't understand why you're whining so much." Sparda retorted.

"Because he cheated!! And you know I'm 8. I don't know why you ask. If you can remember Vergil's birthday than you can remember mine!" Dante said, glaring at his father's back in annoyance.

"Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm?" Vergil asked snidely, shaking his head. Dante immediately turned his glare on his brother.

Sparda saw his look of malice in the review mirror and warned him not to start a fight. "Don't. Even. Think. About it."

"I wasn't gonna do anything." Dante said, innocently.

"Humph. Yeah, right." Sparda replied, turning his eyes back to the road. Vergil's stomach growled and he sat forward in his seat.

"Dad, I'm hungry. When are we gonna get to this guys house so we can eat?"

"We'll be there soon. Now, quite antagonizing your brother…and sit back in your seat. The last thing I need is some cop to come by and ask why you're not in a car seat." Sparda replied, blowing out a breath.

Vergil frowned. "I'm too old for a car seat." He said, but sat back down anyway.

"No, actually we're supposed to be in a car seat until we're 9." Dante said speaking up to be heard over the radio.

Sparda smiled. "Thank you Dante, for your infallible knowledge. That was something we really needed to know."

"What's that mean?" Dante asked, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"It means incapable of failing. For a person that knows a lot of random facts, your vocabulary is very limited." Vergil teased, smirking.

Dante rolled his eyes. "This coming from the person that can't even spell Pentecostal."

It was Vergil's turn to glare at Dante. "I can spell Pentecostal!" Vergil growled at Dante. It went on like this for another hour, until Sparda spotted a diner. He sighed, grateful for the reprieve as Dante and Vergil became preoccupied with their own needs. Sparda parked his 1960's charger in front of the diner and cut off the engine. As soon as the engine died down, Dante and Vergil jumped out of the car and ran into the diner.

"Don't run off!" Sparda shouted, jogging to catch up with them. The downside to being a single parent to two half-breed boys was that he had to constantly put up with their combined energy. Being a devil did help to match such vitality, but at the end of the day he was still worn out. Sometimes he thought they did it on purpose just to make him tired. It wouldn't surprise him if they did. Walking into the diner, Vergil ran into a booth by the window and sat down. Dante wasn't so quick to do the same as he looked around first.

"What's wrong?" Sparda asked, sitting down opposite Vergil.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." Dante replied, looking at his father. Sparda sighed.

"Fine. Vergil go with him." Sparda said, gesturing for Vergil to follow him. Vergil nodded getting up from his seat. Dante frowned, however.

"I'm not a baby. I can go by myself." Dante said, pouting. Sparda just gave him a stern look.

"I don't care. I told you before neither one of you go anywhere alone. It's either me or your brother. You choose." Sparda replied sternly. To Dante it wasn't much of a choice. It was either have his annoying brother that would surely tease him, accompany him to the bathroom or have his very paranoid father basically looming over him while he was trying to pee. Dante grumbled and pulled his brother along before he _really_ needed to use the bathroom.

As the two left, a rather weathered looking waitress with grey hair walked up to Sparda. Though, she was elderly she had a very beautiful smile. Her long gray hair was swept up in a bun and by her looks; she could've looked gorgeous a couple decades ago. She smiled at Sparda, brightly. "Those your two boys?" She inquired, nicely.

Sparda nodded at her.

"They're just adorable! How old are they?"

"Eight." Sparda replied, suppressing a sigh. He got that a lot. He didn't understand the female obsession with cute children, or the need to constantly comment on how adorable Vergil and Dante were. It was annoying.

"I saw you come in alone. Where's their mother?"

And then they would ask questions like that. Those kinds of questions were the reason why it was impossible to forget what happened to Eva. Of course, he could never forget but he was always reminded.

"…she died."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It must be very difficult for you raising those boys all by yourself."

She did mean well, Sparda knew, but he didn't appreciate pity. Especially from humans. He was saved from a reply, however, when Dante and Vergil came hurrying in taking their seats across from their father.

"Did you order, yet?" Vergil asked, flipping his menu to the first page. Sparda shook his head. Dante grinned.

"Does that mean we can have what we want?!" Dante shouted, excitedly.

Sparda smiled slightly. "Yes, you can have what you want." Dante and Vergil turned to the waitress who was standing by closely watching them. Dante order two slices of pepperoni pizza along with a strawberry milkshake, while Vergil ordered pasta and a sprite. Sparda was sure that they'd be hyperactive balls of energy in no time, but for the moment he would let them have their fun.

The food came and they ate. Once done, they were back on the road again. Sparda was lost in thought as the background noise of Dante's insistent whining and Vergil's continued jeering faded away. He thought back to the waitress in the diner and silently cursed her for bringing up the painful memories of Eva. He could never forget no matter how hard he tried. Eva's bright blue eyes stared at him every day from their sons faces.

Sparda was always reminded of Eva's presence in their sons. He sighed, shaking his head to clear it of his thoughts.

--:--

An hour later, they'd arrived outside a derelict apartment block. Sparda parked close to the building, so he'd know if his car was being broken into. He stepped out of the car and examined the building in front of him. In short; it was a dump with all kinds' of undesirables lying about. Sparda knew that if it was any other situation, there would be no chance in hell he would expose his kids to the nasty side of life, but since it wasn't that kind of situation he had to do his best to teach them the difference.

"We're staying HERE?" Vergil commented as he came around the back of the car with Dante.

"Unfortunately." Sparda replied, motioning for them to follow him.

As they came into view of the front doors Sparda could see a man standing there waiting for them. As he came closer the man became more distinct. He was wearing a white tank top with an open blue plaid shirt showing off two gleaming pistols and to top off the whole outfit he was also wearing a cowboy hat. Sparda immediately recognized the man.

Jean Hopkins grinned as Sparda came closer. "Old bastard! You're late!"

Sparda just smirked as he walked up to him. They embraced quickly thumping each other on the back. "I can't believe it's been ten years already. These your boys?"

"Yeah, this is Vergil and Dante. Boys, this is Jean Hopkins. He's a hunter. You can trust him to watch your back." Sparda said, ushering them forward. Jean took a closer look at them and smiled.

"Yeah, these your boys alright. Look exactly like you, but got their mothers eyes." Jean said, nodding his head as if affirming something. "Well, come on in. I promise you the inside looks much better than out here."

Sparda nodded, walking after him. Vergil and Dante kept close to Sparda as they passed a group of people smoking marijuana on the front step. Dante wrinkled his nose at the sickly sweet scent, and coughed. One of the guys smirked and blew smoke in his direction. Dante coughed again, and the group sniggered.

Sparda turned around, glared at the group letting a little red seep into his gaze. He grabbed Dante and Vergil, and propelled them through the doors.

"Great hospitality." Sparda murmured, following Jean. Jean looked back and gave him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about them. Tried getting rid of them once or twice, but those thugs don't scare easily. Short of calling the police and causing attention to myself, there was nothing I could do."

"You could have moved." Vergil mumbled, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the lemon disinfectant on the linoleum. Sparda clipped his ear at the comment. "Ouch!"

Jean just grinned. "Move?! Out of this palace? I don't think so, my friend. You see, I've got it good here." Jean replied, opening a door leading into a large nicely furnished flat.

Sparda was surprised. Jean was right. The inside was much better looking than the outside.

Stepping inside the lavish apartment, Sparda whistled. "This is a lot nicer then a hunter can pay for, I can tell you that much." Sparda said pointedly looking at Jean. Jean feigned innocence. "Don't break anything." Sparda murmured to Dante and Vergil.

The boys stared at everything with contempt. This was exactly the kind of place they hated. They would surely be banned from playing for as long as they were here.

They walked around for a bit, sitting on a leather sofa in what was supposed to be the living room when they spotted a plastic white box on the floor in front of them.

"Is that…?" Dante asked turning to look at Jean.

"Yes, that is an Xbox 360. Yes, you may play with it if that's alright with your with your father, an if you may…please take good care of her." Jean replied, winking at them. Dante and Vergil looked to their father who nodded an affirmative.

"Yes!!" Dante and Vergil shouted in unison each grabbing a controller.

"You let your kids play violent games?" Jean asked, looking back at Sparda. Sparda just shrugged.

"If it gets their aggression out and doesn't turn their violence on each other, then why not?" Jean nodded agreeing with Sparda.

"Want a beer? You've gotta be traveling for a while now, so I know you must be tired with those little balls of energy." Jean said walking toward his fridge.

Sparda just chuckled. "Man, you have no idea. All this keeping under the radar is getting really annoying. Especially when you have to keep moving around."

"Oh, yeah…how's that coming along for ya?" Jean asked twisting the cap off a beer bottle and handing it to Sparda.

Sparda took a sip before answering. "You'd think as kids they'd be curious as to why their moving around so much. They know why, of course, but you'd think they'd ask why they're not in school like all the other kids." Sparda replied taking a long sip from the bottle.

Jean just shrugged. "You can't forget they're not like all the other kids. And besides, when I was in school I used to hate it with a passion. Maybe they just don't like school." Jean said looking over to Dante and Vergil watching them play Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. "They make a good team, though."

Sparda nodded at Jean's comment as he watched them. They were so concentrated in their game that they wouldn't notice a bullet whizz by their heads…or maybe they would? It was a war game after all.

"How old are they, again?"

--:--

It was ten o'clock and the boys were asleep, now. The apartment was quite except for the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen dinette table, and the occasional police siren coming from outside. Sparda and Jean stayed up talking, various beer bottles littering the table. Jean was a happy drunk and right now he was pretty drunk. However, since Sparda was a demon he still wasn't at that state of euphoric haziness. He had a nice buzz if nothing else.

"So, have you talked to Lazarus?" Jean asked swaying in his chair slightly. Sparda raised an eyebrow at his question.

"Why would I talk to Lazarus, now?" Sparda replied.

"Because he's your friend. I mean, just because you beat him up doesn't mean you still can't be friends." Jean replied laying his head on his arm.

Sparda just laughed. "You're drunk. I didn't just beat him up. I damn near killed him."

"Yeah, what did he say to you, anyways?" Jean asked, slurring his words.

Sparda took another sip from his beer bottle. "Stuff…" He simply said. Jean laughed.

"Riiiight. Stuff. Come on…what happened? Was he dating a girlfriend from back home or something?"

"It's something." Sparda replied finishing off his bottle.

"Hey, you know, I've heard some stuff."

"More stuff, Jean?"

"No, no, no. This stuff is important. Like demon's important. It's why I'm town."

"There's demon activity in this city?" Sparda asked frowning. He thought this place was safe for the time being. Apparently, that wasn't so.

"S'what I heard. Demons have been acting crazy lately. Reeeally been acting out. Like just killing people. Whole groups of them, and that's why I'm out here. Wanna come with me? I could use your help." Jean said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"No." Sparda replied with no hesitation frowning gravely.

"What?"

"I said no."

"How come?"

"Because I have my own concerns to look after." Sparda said, meaning his kids. Jean wasn't so quick on the uptake.

"Like what? What can be more important than taking out those demon scums before they kill more people?!" Jean said harshly.

Sparda glared at him. Jean realized his mistake too late.

"Look man, I'm--" Jean tried to apologize, but was cut off by Sparda.

"You know what's more important to me than those demon scums, Jean? They're names are Vergil and Dante and they are what's more important to me than those demons." Sparda replied a little angrily.

Jean avoided his gaze. "I didn't mean--"

"I know you didn't. Your drunk…and so am I." Sparda replied, walking away from the table.

The next morning, Sparda was on the road again with Dante and Vergil headed God knows where. Jean called, but he ignored it. He wasn't looking for another demon to kill. All he wanted was for his sons to be safe. They whined of course. They didn't have a console of their own, so that Xbox was a luxury to them.

By noon, Jean called him one more time. The last time. He died that afternoon along with six other's in his apartment complex.

--:--

"Where's Sparda? I was told he was here?"

"It looks like he left early this morning along with the boys."

"Looks like? That's unacceptable. Find him."

"You don't get to tell me what's unacceptable. I will find him. Make no mistake about that."

"Good. That's what I like to hear. Such ambition from our little angels."

"In the meantime, you should work on readying the release of my brother."

"In due time. After all, we need him for greater things then just to start up his little rebellion."

"Of course, you do."

"At any rate, I'd loved to see how you're going to get him to agree to it."

"He won't."

"Then how do you plan…"

"Don't concern yourself with details. In the meantime, we both have our objectives. I should think that we need to get them done."

"Hmph."

* * *

Author's Note: He is Angel With Scabbed Wings, Hard-drug face want to powder his nose...

Sorry, just had to put that in there. I'm not emo I swear.

Anywho...Sorry for the long wait, but I sorta got writer's block for while and then I just started getting a bunch of idea's for fics. So, I wanted to chapter to be more mysterious than the last(hence the two people talking at the end) and lead up to more stuff that will happen later on.

If anything I've written so far is an indication of what's to come, that is.

I don't own Carry on my wayward Son by Kansas and I don't own Devil May Cry.

R&R, plz! I would really appreciate it! I love feedback!


	3. Interlude

**Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, just the storyline.**

**Angel With The Scabbed Wings**

**Interlude**

She held her tongue as always. What she wanted to say she wasn't allowed. For fucks sake, she was of a higher order than they were. And yet, she wasn't allowed to speak for the simple fact that she didn't have a stick and two neck stations dangling from between her legs.

It didn't matter. Sooner or later she would get payback, and it would most definitely be sweet.

She was one of the most respected angels in the whole hierarchy. She should be able to boss them around. Especially, the angels and archangels, but she wasn't allowed to do anything. It was annoying. No wonder Lucifer had rebelled against these hypocrites.

They were a bunch of liars. All of them.

Don't dabble in the affairs of man, they said

Don't ask questions, they said.

Don't doubt The Almighty Creator, they'd said.

But of course, it only made her more curious. Man…why were they allowed free will and the angels weren't? And the higher on the hierarchy you were the more arrogant you were, throwing your weight around, and if you were female the worse you had it. The ones of the ninth order had it the worse though. No one told them anything. They were just pawns.

So many rules…it was like they existed to be broken. Well, that's how she felt. Of course, rebelling like Lucifer had would only get her in the same place if not worse. She was a female; it wasn't tolerated among their ranks.

"Nasha?"

She turned coming face to face with Bath Kol. She set her jaw to keep from scowling at her. She kept her face neutral, staring at Bath Kol. "Yes?"

"You seem tense…or angry? What's bothering you?" Bath Kol replied, tilting her head at her. For one of the only female angels ever noted in human history as an important figure, Bath Kol was a waifish girl with mocha chocolate skin and baby soft brown hair. Her eyes were pure black, but all innocence reflected back in them.

Nasha didn't particularly like her nor did she hate her for she was the only real useful female angel. Other than that she was annoying. True she couldn't really hate the girl for she did look up to her.

"Do I look angry? I'm sorry. I'm thinking too much." Nasha replied, turning her attention back to the luminescent light that powered all of heaven.

"I don't think it's wrong to be lost in thought. Just don't do it with such an…angry look. It will make the others suspicious." Bath Kol replied, leaning in to whisper the last part.

Nasha smirked slightly. "You may have a point, Bath Kol."

The others were suspicious indeed. Nasha had left for Purgatario for quite a while and had not come back until just three years ago human time. In fact, they had a right to be suspicious. Of course, she wasn't going to give them anything they could use against her.

So, instead for the time being while she plotted, she did what they told her too.

Nasha looked to Bath Kol. She took in her pristine appearance. Her hair was neatly pulled back and she wore a sleeveless white and gold dress that ended just below her knees.

"What's the occasion?" Nasha asked.

"Michael is receiving a new rank. I had, also, heard that there was a meeting of great importance and that all angels are to be present." Bath Kol replied.

"Humph." Nasha grunted in reply.

It was true that he was the strongest of them all. It was even true that his sword was the one that felled the mighty Lucifer…but even still. Nasha had never met a more arrogant angel in all her life.

Or maybe it was her perspective that perceived all angels as liars that made her think that.

She shouldn't be surprised anyways. Michael was God's favorite indeed. The perfect little soldier.

Nasha herself was wearing only her Angelus golden armor. At events such as that it isn't demanded, but expected to wear something more appropriate at the time. She wasn't going to change just for some stupid ceremony, though.

"When does it start?"

"It should have started, now."

Nasha looked over at Bath Kol and smiled. "My, aren't you being a little deviant today?"

Bath Kol smiled back, shyly. "It isn't like that! I just…well, I didn't want to stay for the whole thing. And I rather show up late then be on time and try to figure a way out."

Nasha laughed softly. "Careful, Bath Kol. You're taking after me." Nasha said, standing. Bath Kol stood as well…and went ridged as a statue. Her eyes turned a pure white and glowed for a few minutes.

"What is it? What are you seeing?" Nasha asked.

Bath Kol relaxed and when she blinked, her eyes changed back to their original black color. She frowned looking at Nasha. "Zachriel will be looking for you at the ceremony." Bath Kol replied.

Nasha nodded, walking away. Bath Kol ran to catch up.

"What's going on between the two of you? You're spending quite some time with each other." Bath Kol asked. Nasha abruptly stopped in her tracks and turned to glare at her.

"Not another word out of you. If you so much as breathe a word to anyone about what you saw, I will make you wish you never existed." Nasha spoke threateningly. Bath Kol nodded, staring at Nasha's angry face.

Nasha straightened, staring down at Bath Kol's cowering form. "Then let's go."

-:-

The ceremony had already gotten underway, by the time Nasha and Bath Kol joined the crowd. It was nearly over with when Zachriel walked right up to Nasha.

"Hello, Nasha. How are you doing?" Nasha turned at the sound of his voice.

"Just fine. Thank you for asking. Yourself?"

"Oh, I'm just dandy. I must say, however, you are looking quite plain today. Didn't anyone tell you that today was a grandiose occasion?" Zachriel said, keeping his eyes on the ceremony at hand. Nasha narrowed her eyes.

"No. What do you mean?" Zachriel chuckled, softly.

"You are going to be tested, my dear. Suffice it to say, you are not trusted."

Nasha sighed, resignation in her tone. "Perfect."

"Isn't it, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's the perfect opportunity to prove you are worthy and gain their trust. And if things go right, then to get in good with the old man." Zachriel replied, eyes flicking to Nasha only for a second.

For a few moments, she said nothing. "I suppose so."

Nasha didn't even need to look at Zachriel to tell he was smiling. It always seemed like she was the only one doing the dangerous work to throw their enemies off their trial.

What did Zachriel do? Truly, was he of any use to her at all? Did he realize that his usefulness had already run its course and now he was trying to find some way to stay useful to her now? Could that even be possible for him? Could he have thought that far?

Nasha kept her face carefully neutral as Michael's eyes locked with hers. It was only for a split second, but it was long enough for a chill to run along her spine.

"Let me guess? Michael will be the one to judge me." Nasha said, not looking away from the alter.

Zachriel chuckled like she told a good joke. "He'll be one of the people to judge you, yes."

After Nasha had gotten back from Purgatorio, Michael had been the first one to demand that she be taken in for interrogation. Of all the angels, he took his job most seriously, or more accurately his name which meant he who most like God.

No wonder he was so arrogant.

And yet, he was the most powerful and most intelligent of all the angels. Nasha could deal with power, but intelligence…she didn't need one of those sticking its nose where it shouldn't.

It was easy enough to fool the others. They thought that because she was a female, she was interested in man no more than her curiosity could be filled.

How wrong they were.

It wasn't man that she was interested in. Not at all. In fact, what she was interested in wasn't even human.

Nasha shivered.

If anyone found out what she did, she would be executed.

The ceremony ended. And with it everyone parted ways. Nasha was about to leave, when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Michael behind her.

"Nasha, we haven't had much of a chance to talk since our…dispute." Michael said, staring down at Nasha. Nasha nodded.

"I suppose not." She replied.

"Look, I'll be truthful with you. I'm not sure I trust you. In fact, I don't trust you. I believe that you are cunning and manipulative, and I believe that you are harboring some sort of secret. I believe that you are up to something, and if I'm right…if I'm right I will make you regret having come back home." Michael replied, his bright blue eyes glaring at her.

Nasha shunted her gaze from his. "Michael, I'm sorry that you don't trust me. Truly, I am. But you accuse me of having human characteristics. Further more you accuse me of having some sort of secrecy that I'm keeping from everyone. It isn't true, and I hope that with time you will see that yourself." Nasha replied, looking back up at him.

Michael drew in a breath, and nodded. "We shall see of your innocence. Report to the magistrate chamber in one hour." Michael said, leaving.

The magistrate chamber in one hour. Where her test would be. They were going to look into her mind! Of course, that would explain why Zachriel was laughing!

_That sneaky, son-of-bitch! He knew all along!_

It seemed like he did think ahead. Nasha gritted her teeth going in search of the sly bastard. She came upon him across one of the bridges, and forced herself to a sedate walk. They were out in the open, and it didn't escape her notice of the significance of that. He knew she'd throttle him given the chance.

"You knew all along, and yet you didn't tell me." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Zachriel taunted a smug look on his face.

"Don't play games with me! Just know that if I'm brought down, you will surely follow."

"Oh dear, are you threatening the only person that could possibly help you through this mess, Nasha?"

She eyed him then, her eyes glowing incandescently. "And what exactly would you do?" She asked suspiciously. Zachriel chuckled then.

"Dear, have you forgotten for what I am? I'll take your memories and store them for you, and replace them with temporary memories for your time on earth. And after you may have your own back." Zachriel replied. Nasha gritted her teeth. She was sure of one thing; when all was said and done, she would kill Zachriel.

"And Michael?"

"What of him?"

"Don't you think he'll pose a problem?"

"He doesn't know anything. Not yet, anyway. I suppose your right, though. Of course, I could just take his memories and replace his hatred of you with one that is madly enamored with you instead." Zachriel replied, smiling.

Nasha didn't share in the amusement. In fact, it only solidified her suspicion and resentment of him. She turned to him, studying his countenance with the trained eye of a hawk.

"Speaking of altering memories, how do I know you won't alter mine?" Zachriel turned to her smiling widely, if only restrained.

"My dear…to what purpose do I have of altering your memories? Furthermore, even if I did seek to alter something you don't have a choice if you seek to reach your goal. Don't forget dear, I was specifically chosen for this," he looked her up and down openly showing his contempt for her, "auspicious occasion."

Nasha glowered at him, her eyes shining brightly. One day soon…she was going to kill him.

"Now, I'm sure you've someplace to be in an hour, correct?"

-:-

Nasha made her way over to the magistrate chamber passing through winding passages, and twisting hallways. She gloried in being home. Tall castles shining brightly in the burning luminescence of their very own nebula. It was the exact opposite of the underworld. She felt happy as she always did to be here. Nothing was better than being home.

The only dampener on the evening was the reason why she was being called on the floor. Suffice it to say, Michael did not trust her for some reason or another. However it was not enough to impede her bubbly mood. She was always good to everyone she met, but among other things she was always a soldier first. In that regard, the only indication of her cheerful mood was the light bounce in her step.

She reached the doors to the magistrate chamber rather quickly, standing before the doors as they opened at her presence. She quickly stepped through, the doors closing behind her.

"You're quite early, Nasha." Someone said from farther ahead.

"Yes, sir." Nasha was nothing if not punctual.

"Step forward, child." Another voice, this one older.

She did as she was told. A solider never disobeyed a direct order.

"Kneel."

She did so.

Looking up at the ones that would pass judgment on her, Nasha was shocked to see The Metatron. Never mind that Michael and the seven angels that presided over the providence of paradiso where there, The Metatron was the most powerful and influential angel in all of heaven. He-alone-along with a few others were the only ones allowed to gaze upon the countenance of the Supreme Being.

He smiled down at her, fatherly.

She couldn't have done anything so severe as to deserve the attention of God's right hand.

"You know the penalty for deception, Nasha." One asked unnecessarily. Nasha nodded her head reciting the tenets they as angels were required to follow. The older one that had spoken nodded his head satisfied. "Nasha, you've been gone on earth for quite some time and there are concerns that we must address. You understand, don't you?"

Nasha nodded her head in understanding.

"Then have no fear and trust in the all mighty creator, child. Open your mind to us."

Nasha did as she was told, although a bit apprehensively.

A sudden light engulfed her, and she was sailing forwards. Suddenly, flashes of pictures of people of voices overwhelmed her, and she was forced to endure all the sights and smells she had on earth. Everything that was pleasant and unpleasant…all the inequities and graces of man…she was forced to go through it all again.

When it was all over, she collapsed on her hands and knees mentally spent. As she regained control of her breathing, Nasha raised a hand to wipe sweat from her brow and touched her face. She pulled her hand back as she felt wetness stain her cheek and realized she'd been crying. Wiping her eyes she looked on solemnly.

The angels all looked at her with pity. Everyone except Michael. The Metatron smiled at her sympathetically.

"Based on the evidence at hand…we've determined that you've done nothing more than observed the human's. And as such, you are free to go."

Nasha nodded standing up and leaving the magistrate chamber behind. She missed the narrowed glance of a pair of eyes directed at her back.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow, its really been a while! Sorry, I haven't updated in so long.

I promise I haven't given up on this story. I just had a massive case of writers block.

Hopefully, sometime soon I'll be able to get my car so I'll have transportation to post more chapters.

Anyway, R&R, Plz!


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